


Just Breath

by Prompt_Master



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, boyf riends — Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-06
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 19:08:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12019140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prompt_Master/pseuds/Prompt_Master
Summary: Michael stays over after Jeremy has a bad day, only to find he stayed awake on the verge of a panic attack





	Just Breath

Do you ever find yourself lost in thought at random times? Like your mind just needs to get away? Michael knew that feeling all too well, especially at 3 AM in the kitchen. He watched with tired eyes with the microwave as the only source of light in the room. He felt so exhausted that his eyes physically burnt, but every time he went to sleep his hand would slip from under his chin and snap him back to awareness. 3 AM. What an ungodly time. The mug in the microwave wasn’t set in the center, and it was oddly entrancing to watch it spin around and around. 

Michael shut his eyes again, but this time kept himself awake with his thoughts. He fumbled through the situation he managed to get into. Jeremy was having a bad day, or well, bad week. His anxiety was off the roof, his PTSD came back in ways he was too scared to ask about, heck the kid was afraid any one touching him. So their plan was to have him sleep over for a carefree relaxing night, just boyfriend and boyfriend. 

Mike opened his eyes at the beeping of the microwave, and forced himself to stand him. He groaned as every tired muscle in his body creaked, but he had to keep himself awake. Jeremy needed him. He grabbed a nice warm mug of hot chocolate and brought it downstairs to the basement. 

See, Michael had woken up not that long ok to find out Jeremy never went to sleep, on the verge of an anxiety attack.

Jeremy was curled up in his jacket, something Michael gave him to ground himself. He was sitting on an ottoman, his knees up and close to his chest. More concerningly was that he was staring at a blank channel, nothing but static illuminating his face. 

Wordlessly, because right now none were needed, Michael sat next to Jeremy, hanging off the edge of the ottoman. Jeremy’s face was filled with tv fuzz, his fingers picking at the wrists of Michael’s jacket. It was strangely grounding, to tug and pull at fabric, but deep down he was worried he’d stretch it out. Michael’s jacket was…warm and comforting in these times. Like being wrapped up in a blanket so that even the voice telling you to go fuck yourself was relaxing. 

Jeremy looked over from a loose string in the hoodie to steam rising next to him. Michael offered him a loose, but comforting smile, Jeremy loved to be around things he found familiar. He stretched his hands out so the sleeves weren’t down to his knuckles and grabbed the mug, whispering a thank you so quiet that if it wasn’t for the puff of steam that hit Michael’s face he probably wouldn’t have noticed. 

Michael nodded, and as Jeremy took a sip of the cooca he leaned shoulder to shoulder. It was a small light touch, this was his silent way of asking if he was ok with contact. Jeremy took a deep breath through his nose, staring down at the melting whipped cream as he nodded his head. Michael pressed more firmly against Jeremy, who relished in the contact. It was all so grounding, especially because it was Michael. He felt a shoulder wrap around him, and sunk deeper into the hoodie, taking in the familiar scent of weed and blueberry. 

When he finished his cup, Michael gently took it from his hand and placed it on the floor, rubbing at Jeremy’s arm gently. He laid his head on Michael’s shoulder, and Michael laid his on top of Jeremy’s. He smiled at the hair that tickled his nose, but never complained. He watched as Jeremy played with a loose string on his Black Lives Matter patch. 

“Hey..” his voice was soft, but deep and tired, Jeremy had to close his eyes to take it all in, “don’t mess with that” 

Jeremy shrugged, letting go of the string and instead playing with one of Michael’s hands, running a finger over the chipped black nail polish, “you gotta get these repainted…” He hated how weak his voice sounded. He would have been scolded for that if they were still around. 

Michael shrugged, “it’s whatever.” The static from the tv made it a bit disorientating to watch, and it made him glad he put on his glasses, “you wanna talk about it.” 

“Just the usual.” Ah, another bad day of hearing the SQUIP in his mind then. 

Michael frowned, holding the back of   
Jeremy’s hand in his. “The real thing or impulsive thoughts..?” He ran his fingers up Jeremy’s wrist, able to trace his electrocution scars without even looking. 

“Just thoughts. I-…i uh, took the dew a few days ago. They shouldn’t be back till next Monday.” 

Michael hummed, running smooth circles on Jeremy’s wrist, “you should try to sleep now. I know you’re tired. I am too.” 

“I know…” Jeremy clenched his eyes shut, hating that this powerless voice still had so much power, “I know, I know I just, it’s so hard sometimes and I can’t think or do anything but mess up-” 

“Hey.” Michael had moved his arm away from Jeremy’s shoulder to grab at his other wrist, Jeremy finally looked up to look at him. His expression was determined, a little worried, and hopeful, “Just breathe.” 

Jeremy nodded, leaning into Michael’s chest and taking a deep breath of 3AM air and Michael, tired eyes finally shutting. “Ok…”


End file.
